


Tell me about fuckups

by Hikary



Series: Fluffyverse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Consensual, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Incest, Kissing, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Pre-Series, Safe Sane and Consensual, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-19 22:12:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11907249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hikary/pseuds/Hikary
Summary: « Hi dad » he breathes, the tip of his nose brushing John’s.« Hi, Dean. »« I missed you. »orJohn Winchester acknowledges his messes & counts his blessings.





	Tell me about fuckups

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gondolin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gondolin/gifts).



> • This is officially my first Supernatural fic. Slightly nervous here - seriously, I might throw up. My gawgeous kitten approves, so I must have done something right after all :")  
> • I am halfway through season 7 and, although I know many things about the next seasons, there are also things I do not know – please no spoilers :3  
> • However, I know enough about the fandom to understand that most people don’t like John. I am respectiful of other people’s opinion, so please be respecful of the fact that he is my favourite character (well, with Gabriel, for the record) and I disagree with most people’s view. I didn’t come into this fandom to have more shouting matches, if you can’t stand John, you will definitely find other fics that will better suit your taste :)  
> • All my JohnDean fics are 100% #superconsensual, approved and certified by Tad Cooper himself.  
> • It's obvious, but Dean is over 18 (i can't believe I am writing this XD)(I have been writing Baelfire for so long I feel like I put a little bit of him everywhere X'D)

Every now and then, it comes one of those days, when John finds himself waiting at the traffic lights, hands on the wheel, eyes staring into the distance, and he decides it is time to sort his shit out. There is no need to be more specific, because pretty much _everything_ in his life is fucked up.

He always plans to start with Sammy, for multiple reasons. First, it is a simple thought, almost a _normal_ situation, and John can pretend their fight is just any fight between _a_ _normal father_ and _a_ _normal son_. He can skip the part where Mary is on fire and monsters are real. It is also quick to dismiss, because he simply won’t go and apologise – he knows that. Right after that, he jumps to Ellen, wonders how little Jo’s doing; if she is even half the badass kid he expects her to be, he feels incredibly proud and also incredibly sorry for Ellen.

Dean comes last, but that’s because John is very good at lying – he can’t be honest about Dean, not even in his own head. That’s how it works between them: he lets Dean believe he’s the one John doesn’t have time to worry about, the one John expects to be strong and take care of everything. Truth is, it’s been more than twenty years since Dean came into this world, which is twice the time John had with Mary, _hell,_ it’s even longer than he had lived home with his parents. Dean is not the first thought that comes up, because Dean _lives_ inside his head, 24/7.

If John really wanted to do _something_ about _it_ , he would tell Bobby. The man would put a bullet through his skull then and there, and they would have all lived happy ever after. Well, those who deserved to be alive anyway.

* * *

 

When he finally walks into the motel room, he is welcomed by Dean’s lazy figure sprawled onto the bed, remote in one hand, perfect picture of the average American man. Only, John know he was slaughtering wendigos until a few hours ago. It looks like the kid has been doing nothing useful but waiting for him; he can’t say he minds the thought. Dean is on his feet at once, and yet there’s some awkwardness in the way he slowly approaches his father. He stops a few steps from the man and nervously caresses his neck, unsure what to do with his own hands. He is waiting for permission to hug him – John knows that. On a lucky day, a hug is all it takes for John to remember why he decided to throw his last bit of reticence out of the metaphorical window; on a bad one, however, John could easily spend the next week barely talking to Dean.

  « Hey, kiddo » John’s smile is warm and genuine and _fatherly_ « come here. »

Dean raises an eyebrow – he’s not buying any crap today, John notices. He takes up on the offer, still cautious but too eager for a contact to refuse – and, somewhere deep inside, he still needs his _dad_ sometimes. John knows his son is more like a human octopus when it comes to hugs: it’s probably John’s own fault, the man has to admit, for turning hugs into a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Dean melts into the embrace and John doesn’t know anymore what he regrets the most – being there or not having been there for weeks. 

  « So » Dean breaks the hug, then looks up at John and grins mischievously. « What’s today’s schedule? »

Again, how did he bring up such a shameless flirt?

  « Today’s _schedule?_ » John caresses his chin, trying to laugh at his boy. « We got some research to do. I picked up a few files on my way here. » 

John turns his back to his son and he actually manages to produces a few black folders from his bag. Then, he sits at the small desk and begins to methodically pile them up.

  « Dad. » Dean is practically whining « _Daaad_. Seriously. »

  « What? » John glances at his _very upset_ eldest child, still careful not to laugh.

  « It’s been _days_. »

  « Is it? Well, you’d better be getting to work, young man. Unless you want it to become _more days_. » 

Dean looks outraged.

John throws a briefcase at him.

It’s only after a few minutes that John realises he is still wearing the jacket of his FBI(ish) suit: this must be why he is melting down like a wicked witch. He takes it off, and rolls up his sleeves. It feels so much better now, especially when he hears Dean’s painful moan coming from behind his back.

  « _You monster._ »

John might be giggling a little bit. It’s fun to be the one teasing, for once. He spent months thinking about dead kittens every time Dean accidentally forgot to wash all of his underwear for a couple of days, before admitting defeat. There’s just as much as a man can take.

Over the following hour, he manages to unbutton one third of his shirt – _insert Dean throwing paper balls here_ – and get rid of his belt _– please mind Dean cursing in Latin here_. The Latin bit is kind of impressive, therefore John decides it is about time to take pity on him.

  « Alright, son _._ »

It only takes a moment for John to stand up and turns around, and yet, Dean is already there, eyes sparkling with an impossible mix of indignation and excitement, just a breath away from him. John sighs dramatically. Dean only gets closer.

  « Hi dad » he breathes, the tip of his nose brushing John’s.

  « Hi, Dean. »

  « I missed you. » 

Dean’s a masterpiece of green eyes and red lips and freckles (although John’s favourite pattern is on Dean’s back, right below his left shoulder blade) and, frankly, sometimes John is fucking proud of himself for having brought this amazing creature into the world. _That’s so like Dean_ , he realises. So like him, like _him only,_ to make John feel like he did at least one damn good thing in his life.

  « I missed you, too, kid. »

 John places a hand around Dean’s neck to pull him closer, and kisses him fiercely. The hand-on-the-neck thing is a dirty move, he knows that, and Dean’s moans strongly support the argument. He should probably stop wasting time and brain cells, stop trying to find a way out of this. It’s a brand new level of wrong, they should probably invent a new word for it – not to mention it’s illegal in a hell of a lot of places.

But Dean _is smiling_ , Dean’s _happy_. And John Winchester doesn’t believe in many things – actually he doesn’t believe in _anything_ anymore – and, if he had to, though, that would be nothing less than his boy’s smile.

**Author's Note:**

> A very subtle-not-so-subtle thanks to Mr Irwin, Gabe & Dad, and to every single shot with JDM sitting at his desk in 'Texas Killing Fields'.
> 
> (Alice, darling, payback time is not Near anymore, it's fucking finally John <3)


End file.
